


One Last Bonding

by Lohksparce



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Game: Destiny: The Taken King DLC, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Loss, M/M, Mostly Canon Compliant, Polyamory, Polybal, Porn With Plot, Pre-Red War (Destiny), Psychological Trauma, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:08:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28045176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lohksparce/pseuds/Lohksparce
Summary: The Emperor gave him orders to board the Dreadnought at all costs. Tlu'urn said to mutiny, but he couldn't. He had a duty.Duty was victory. Mutiny was worse than death. Even when death is certain.
Relationships: Primus Ta'aun/Valus Mau'ual/Valus Tlu'urn
Kudos: 3





	One Last Bonding

**Author's Note:**

> LOCAL MAN WRITES HUGE FIC ABOUT THREE CABAL CHARACTERS THAT LIKE FIVE PEOPLE REMEMBER. 
> 
> God, all this started from reading the wiki and looking up some other Cabal info. I came across Primus Ta'aun and just... fell in love with his character. There's only a small amount but it just caught me. And I always imagined, he, Mau'ual, and Tlu'urn were in a polyamorous relationship based on the language in his lore in the Taken Grimoire. 
> 
> The way it specifies faithful friends and beloved comrades, and the Darkness specifically mentions his love for them, not just caring for them, just made me feel as if they were together since usually if friends are referring to each other in fiction, it's not usually referred to as love. Plus, with the Osiris/Saint news, maybe these three Cabal were meant with that in mind.
> 
> Either way, that's my headcanon for them, and other than the relationship and Mau'ual and Tlu'urn showing up at the end+Guardian helping, this is directly based on the canon events. It's been a labor of love to write this, even though it's only been in the works for a short time (feels longer LOL).

Another forty-three were lost today: twenty-eight Legionaries, ten Centurion, and five Colossus.

An entire unit – lost.

The Vex and the Guardians had razed them to the ground. All they could do was pick up what was left of their armor so the Quartermaster could ship it back to their families and loved ones.

He was tired of fighting a losing battle. Tired of watching the brothers and sisters under his command die one by one, right beside him, painting his armor in their blood and the gel of their suits, and being the one to order them out to their deaths because that was what he had been ordered to do.

But orders had changed. Reports had came in that the Hive had developed some kind of counter-Dead Person capability. The Emperor himself had ordered him to board the Hive's massive flagship and secure the capability at all costs. To board that ship was a death sentence, and it gave him a secret.

He didn't want to acknowledge it: he, Primus of the Sand Eaters, was _afraid_. Cabal commanders weren't supposed to be afraid. They were strong, tireless, ferocious – utterly unrelenting in the face of everything. All but him. Fear wormed its way into him, and it wouldn't go away. But what could he do? Nothing. Nothing at all. Advance and attack, Emperor's orders, straight from the top and down to him. The Emperor's orders; not his own. He held his face in his hands and his fingers found scars.

_I can't fail. It's unthinkable. Defeat is worse than death._

He is so tired. So _tired._

Ta'aun thought of mutiny. He thought of Valus Trau'ug and how he took his Legion to the Reef, and smiled. They had failed, utterly and completely. But they _had_ done it. Killed their superiors and went off to wage their own war. Traitors and betrayers they were called, but they had fought and died their own way.

_Quiet, my heart. You cannot be followed. I must advance._

The door to his quarters slid open. Ta'aun straightened up and looked over at the faces of Tlu'urn and Mau'ual. It made his heart hurt to see their beautiful bodies, clad in only their under-suits, free of the vibrant body armor that kept them protected in battle. His eyes traced over their visible skin, memorizing every scar and familiar fold, locking it deep inside his mind and heart. His Bond Brothers stepped into the room and the door shut behind them.

"We came to spend the night with you," Tlu'urn said. "If you would have us."

Ta'aun's body felt heavy, throat tight. He steadied his voice. "Of course."

A few taps on the keypad and comms system box on the wall ensured no one could enter without authorization.

Tlu'urn and Mau'ual approached their bond brother in tandem, taking point in front of the bed like a great shield, and Ta'aun let himself be moved.

Mau'ual held the Primus' face in his hands, tilting his chin up so he could press their lips together in a deep kiss. Ta'aun's right side was filled by the other Valus' wide form. Rough lips and teeth points trailed down his neck and collarbone until they met the thick fabric of his under-suit. He leaned back to let Tlu'urn peel the suit off, and the base's warm, wet air felt good on his skin.

This was probably the last night he would feel something resembling the sweet weather of home.

Ta'aun found the strength to move his hands, and he stripped his beloved subordinates one by one. It was a dance they'd done many times before. Tlu'urn settled himself down onto the solid bunk, and Ta'aun crawled on top of him, pressing sloppy kisses to his chest and neck.

His fingers touched a new scar, rippled and rough: a glancing shot from a Minotaur's Torch Hammer. Mau'ual leaned forward to run his hands up the back of Ta'aun's thighs, up the flat muscle of his ass, teasing his hole with one finger before cupping the engorged mound between his legs. Thick fingers played with his penis and all it took was a bit of massaging to coax it to its full size.

"Quick as ever..." Mau'ual murmured, stroking him, rubbing the ridged tip with practiced movements.

"You say that as if it is a bad thing," Ta'aun answered, biting back a curse when the Valus gave him a soft squeeze.

Tlu'urn nipped at the Primus' faint jawline. "Not at all. We like you just as you are, Ta'aun."

"You are perfect, Brother," Mau'ual rumbled, kissing up the back of his head.

_Don't say such things. You make it harder to leave._ Ta'aun shook his head, heart aching.

He busied himself with reaching down to grasp Tlu'urn's slowly hardening penis and stroking him to full size, running his thumb up the thick ridge along the bottom side. His Valus groaned, slit pupils dilating into dark ovals full of want and affection. One hand stroked him while the other went further down, grazing against his mound, then down to his entrance, teasing. Mau'ual pulled away to get a container of pressure suit gel that was kept hidden in a wall compartment, away from nosy Legionaries. Ta'aun grit his teeth at the loss of warmth around him.

The Valus passed him the jar without a word. He crawled onto the bed beside them and exchanged kisses with Tlu'urn. Ta'aun twisted the top off and dug into the viscous, dark fluid with two fingers, then his hand found Tlu'urn's entrance again. One oily finger slipped inside him with ease, then another, stroking and teasing the Valus' inner walls, and the slight burn only aroused him further.

"Hurry," Tlu'urn grunted, one hand around Mau'ual's penis and the other gripping the bunk's thin sheets. He groaned, top teeth digging into his bottom lip. "You're torturing me right now, you know..."

"Torture, you say?" Ta'aun allowed himself a smile. He held his penis in one hand, and tilted the jar. Both the Valus' eyes stared, unblinking, as the oil spilled out and dribbled all over the flared head. Beads of black slowly rolled off it and down the sides toward the base, leaving inky trails in their wake. Ta'aun shuddered at the twinges of pleasured and his penis twitched hard.

Tlu'urn rolled his eyes and laughed. "You're an ass."

He flicked one of the Primus' tough thighs for good measure, and Ta'aun just chuckled.

"Tlu'urn, you'd think you would remember he enjoys doing that to you," Mau'ual said, chuckling. He moved towards the head of the bunk, offering his penis to the Valus. Tlu'urn easily took him into his mouth, and Mau'ual growled at the sensation of wet warmth and beautifully rough lips.

"I think he purposefully forgets," Ta'aun grunted.

He took his penis in hand and lined up with Tlu'urn entrance. Just to be more of an ass, Ta'aun prodded the tight ring of muscle, not quite entering him, just antagonizing. Rubbing and teasing, over and over again. He looked across the Valus' thick, sculpted body and up to his face: a mouthful of cock, lips wet with saliva, and his eyes were lidded. Tlu'urn was handsome like that, too. Mau'ual's face was the picture of ecstasy, and he held one of the other Valus' hands tightly. His triangular mouth was agape just slightly in a silent moan. Tlu'urn would probably curse him if he could.

Ta'aun decided to cease his torture, and finally pushed his slick penis into Tlu'urn; all the pressure gel made it easy. He pushed in until his hips met the Valus' ass, making him tense up and groan around Mau'ual's penis. It had been some time since they were last able to couple, so he went in easy, letting the Valus adjust and get used to him again until he was flush against Tlu'urn's ass with a soft squish. A groan fell from his lips, caught off guard by the familiar heat.

One hand rubbed down Tlu'urn's thigh, and the other held his waist with a feather-light touch. He circled an ancient gunshot wound with his thumb: it was faded and smooth now, from a deployment before the three of them met.

Tlu'urn pulled back from Mau'ual's penis agonizingly slow, letting his triangular lips drag against the equally triangular head. Mau'ual hissed and he just grinned.

"You two are insufferable," Mau'ual grumbled, fingers still threaded in the other Valus' free hand.

Tlu'urn brought Mau'ual's hand to his mouth and kissed a knuckle. "I will be more insufferable if Ta'aun doesn't move soon."

"Emperor forbid that." Ta'aun chuckled and obliged him.

His first thrust is slow, pulling back and sliding back into the Valus' like he'd afraid he'll break him somehow. He won't. He wouldn't. Pulling back, then in again. Out, then in. Ta'aun enjoyed taking it slow, seeing Tlu'urn's pale gray skin grow more and more flushed. The Valus' took Mau'ual's penis in his mouth again, and Ta'aun wondered if he would be in that position later, or in Mau'ual's. His thrusts grew faster, urged on by the friction and heat. Tlu'urn's eyes rolled back until he finally shut them and basked in the sensations, close to ripping the thin sheet in his death grip.

It felt like years since they last met in an embrace but they settled into a familiar rhythm with ease.

Coupling was one of the many times spent with them that he relished.

In war and battle, they were his most trusted comrades. The directions he couldn't see, they watched. When his back was turned, they were there. Together, the three of them were a force of nature: the embodiment of a homeworld summer storm, furious and unrelenting. In the quiet times after battle, they would talk. Share jokes. Sometimes they talked about things they missed from the homeworld. Other times, the future. Maybe they would retire and get into politics, if only to make a life together without war. If they were brave enough, elope far, far away. Other times it was just a game of War-Legions in secret – the Legionaries he chastised for playing such a game didn't need to know, even if he wasn't serious. Usually.

The secret times between the three of them? That was just as special as the soft moments. Seeing things no one else could: Mau'ual and Tlu'urn laid bare before him, strong and beautiful. Breaking each other with pleasure and remaking themselves in the sprawling warmth afterwards.

Ta'aun cursed under his breath. A telling heat was building in his nether regions and spreading up to his gut. Tlu'urn opened his eyes again and stared up at Mau'ual, speaking volumes in silence. The Valus let out a shuddery breath and nodded, thrusting in time with the other Cabal's bobbing head. Heat was pooling and roiling within their massive bulk, surging forward like magma on the precipice of erupting from a volcano.

Magma breached the air and turned to lava.

Tlu'urn spilled over first, roar catching in his throat and breaking up around Mau'ual. His thick body tensed up as he let loose rope after rope of thick cum, and Ta'aun couldn't hold on any longer. He pushed into the Valus as far as he could go, gripping his hip. Holding Tlu'urn's hand tight. His mind was spinning as he spilled deep inside Tlu'urn, barely biting back a guttural cry, but Mau'ual made it for him. Tlu'urn swallowed all of his fellow Valus down and when Mau'ual pulled out, he was half-limp,

The eruption subsided: lava was beginning to cool and smoke billowed slowly from the summit.

All three Cabal filled the silence with deep panting. Ta'aun pulled out of Tlu'urn slowly, and the Valus jolted. He still hadn't let go of his hand, and he didn't want to.

"Switch?" Tlu'urn offered, and the other two nodded in agreement.

"It's my turn for the bottom, so don't steal it this time," Mau'ual grunted, but he leaned down and kissed Tlu'urn, tasting himself on his lips.

Mau'ual laid down and rolled onto his back, and Tlu'urn was already on top of him and between his legs, pressing sloppy kisses to his chest.

Ta'aun stared – he wanted to pull his gaze away but he didn't. It was so easy to lose himself in their faces: the way Tlu'urn's brow scrunched up when he laughed. Mau'ual's birthmark across his back – he swore it was shaped like a war beast. He could see it. And their eyes... Mau'ual had those orange-brown eyes like river flowers. Tlu'urn's were even more beautiful than the sky just before a storm.

He had to memorize it.

Every inch of them, wrinkles and beauty spots, lock it all away deep down inside.

Mau'ual reached out and took Ta'aun's hand, pressing the palm of his hand to his face and kissing the tough skin. "You have a far off look on your face. Did we wear you out already?" He chuckled.

"No, not yet. I just had to catch my breath," Ta'aun lied. He took a position next to Mau'ual's face and leaned down to push his brow against his, and share a kiss.

*** ***

By the time they were ready to stop, the Cabal's bodies were coated in sweat. Ta'aun took Mau'ual's play and Tlu'urn took his, back and forth, changing and reciting the steps to a familiar dance. The communal showers were too risky to visit in the dead of night – half of what was left of the unit would be up, guns at the ready, expecting the Vex. Being shot by his own unit wasn't his preferred way to die. Mau'ual was asleep next to him, back pushed against his side, and the Valus' head rested comfortably on an outstretched arm. Tlu'urn was on his other side, face pushed into the crook of his neck. Each puff of breath from him was warm against his neck.

Ta'aun stared up at the ceiling, counting every indent in the thick metal walls above. All he wanted to do was wake up to Mau'ual and Tlu'urn nestled against him, each and every day. See the sun shining through the window and a salty breeze sneaking in from a window that was left open by accident. Know he didn't have to march into the battlefield the next morning. He could have all the time in the world to listening to them sleep peacefully.

It was a shame a Minotaur hadn't blown his legs off. It would be easier that way. Simpler. _Morning everyone, my legs are gone after the last offensive, we shall mutiny on the 'morrow_ , and all that _._ Some of his unit had already wanted to anyways. Said the order to keep fighting was ridiculous. The Martians and their Dead People tore through them, and the Vex swept up what was rest. It was the same, almost every day.

Ta'aun sighed deeply. _No._

_I have a duty to perform. Take the Dreadnought at any cost._

_Push forward._

_Either I am victorious in life or a failure in death._

*** ***

Chaos raged on around Ta'aun. There was roaring and screaming and the violent howl of Cabal weaponry, but it was hard to tell who made what noise. A million thoughts with a million answers and possibilities ran through his mind constantly. Shoot this. Aim at that. Defend –something's coming from the left. A Thrall made of empty darkness and stars leapt at him, claws outstretched, but rounds from his Heavy Slug Thrower tore it to pieces. Another pack of chitin and blood Thralls swarm two Legionaries whose backs are against the wall. Ta'aun called out to them, letting loose – his soldiers are dead before the thick rounds shred the Thrall and leave them fading into ash.

There's so few of them left now: a handful of Legionaries cutting through the never-ending Thrall, but they're injured. His Phalanx struggled to keep their shields up and fight back at the same time. Two Centurion fight back to back. He knows both of them – Aor'ath and Uri'aul. They were a couple, and hoped to get married if they survived the Sand Eaters, have a few children. They never realized he knew about them, but he did. It was his fault they were struggling to take cover from Acolytes shooting from all sides–

A Knight stomped up and slashed Uri'aul in the back. He whirled around to face the Hive but its sword went through his torso, and he crumpled to the ground. Aor'ath roared in fury, and she grabbed the Knight by its neck, snapping it and slinging it into screeching Thrall. He'd seen war all his life. He'd lived it for the past four hundred and thirty-seven years, but he wanted to shut his eyes and blind himself to the battlefield.

_I have to push forward, no matter how many are lost._

_They know the risks. We all do._

_Victory or death. Victory or death. Victory or death._

_My duty is victory. Mutiny is worse than death. Even when death seems certain._

And death is so _certain_. He could feel it breathing down the back of his neck, making his bristles stand on end. Its cold, clammy hands tried to make his fingers stop working. Ta'aun gritted his teeth and roared in defiance. He stomped forward, spraying a flurry rounds into the approaching Thrall, and cutting through a few distant Acolyte who couldn't find cover in time. Aor'ath screamed: she had one of those starry Acolytes in one hand and a Knight's cleaver in the other, cutting at the approaching mass. Thrall were climbing up her like vengeful ants. Ta'aun fired off a missile swarm and but the writhing pile of claws consumed her even as the missiles blew apart Taken and Hive both. His last Legionaries fell to the ground, cleavers in their backs. More of those starry monstrosities bubbled up behind the Phalanx and sheared through them.

Ta'aun gunned them all down. His blood pounded in his ears; it was hard to hear his own thoughts over it.

His gun stopped firing and the battlefield was silent. He was all alone.

The Hive and Taken stopped their advance and retreated behind cover. Ta'aun gripped the thick hand-holds of his Heavy Slug Thrower tighter. He could feels his knuckles stinging and his nails digging into his palms. Everything hurt. His armor had chunks torn out of it and cracks along his massive shoulder pauldrons. He checked his missile ammo – only one salvo left. His systems aimed at the rocks and he let the last burst loose onto the enemy. Thrall and Acolytes went flying, smoldering and utterly dead. His Slug Thrower was nearly empty too. Ta'aun took a subconscious step back, kicking bits of debris down into the abyss behind him.

Shadowy Wizards warped in front of him. They raised their glowing claws, and harsh chanting broke through his armor and wormed its way into his ears. It was like screaming metal, nails on glass, and unintelligible whispers all at once. Ta'aun shook his head and snarled within his helmet.

"Get out of my mind!" Ta'aun roared, and blasted the Wizards with his last handful of rounds.

Their screams echoed through the hall. Ta'aun lowered his gun. He was all out of ammo. No one else in his unit carried the right ammo, they didn't use his weaponry. The Primus swallowed hard and eyed the corpses of his fallen comrades. _Maybe, just maybe._

Three more Wizards pulled themselves into reality like fat slugs before his eyes, bodies shimmering. Their song rose in fever pitch and Ta'aun bit back a scream. Something was pulling him, grabbing at the back of his armor and pulling him back, and it was so cold. He could feel it through his armor, his bodysuit, down to his skin and even further. Ta'aun clawed at the glimmering binds, and his Heavy Slug Thrower clattered to the floor, forgotten. He wanted to run but every muscle in his body refused to respond.

_"TA'AUN–"_

Somewhere past the icy fingers holding his ears shut, Ta'aun heard his name. There was faint yelling and hazy gunshots reverberating through his auditory senses, and a blurry glimpse of bright blue and ruby red. He managed to open his eyes again.

_It can't be._

_Why are they here...?_

_I told them not to come. I told them... I told them_ _..._

Mau'ual and Tlu'urn were there, across the room, and tears beaded up in the corners of his eyes; he couldn't feel their sting. Someone else was there, too. A small figure in garish armor colors, gunning down Thrall. A Guardian. He had to warn them. He had to. Ta'aun opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a strangled croak. The cold Darkness' pull was growing stronger, sucking him in towards the swirling portal. He set his teeth in his lip hard until they broke through skin and blood ran down his jaw.

Pain.

Ta'aun bit down harder and he fought. All his pain and sorrow gathered up in to what little strength he could muster. A candle struggling to keep a flame in a thick blizzard, and he outstretched a single hand towards them. Mau'ual stabbed a Knight through the chest and left a smoking hole in its chitin, but he _saw._ His propulsion systems flared up with white-hot fire and spread out like the wings of a great phoenix so Mau'ual launched himself through the air to Ta'aun. Their hands caught, and the Valus slid to a stop.

"Tlu'urn–!" Mau'ual roared back, and he held Ta'aun's hand with both his own.

He couldn't even feel his beloved's hand. Mau'ual gripped so tightly, he could see their armor straining against each other, but there was no feeling in his hands anymore, so he gnawed his lip again. Tlu'urn crossed the gap in a mighty leap, and slid up to Mau'ual. Thick arms wrapped around the other' Valus waist, finding holds in his armor; Tlu'urn braced himself.

"We won't let you go!"

"Fight it, Ta'aun, fight it!"

They pulled so hard. Ta'aun blinked away the tear and stared at them.

The Guardian in the distance was keeping the Hive and Taken away from them...

Tlu'urn let out a cry, trying to haul Mau'ual backwards and break him free. Coldness grasped Ta'aun even harder, warring against his Bond Brothers' hold.

_Why didn't they stay back like I ordered?_

_Why didn't I listen to Tlu'urn?_

Ta'aun felt the Darkness surge forth and finally pull him in.

_The Emperor sent us on a suicide mission, but he didn't know._

_He didn't know. Why didn't he know? All their systems and he didn't know._

_Why didn't I mutiny. I don't want to die. Not here. Not like this._

_I want to go home with Mau'ual and Tlu'urn._

_Wake up next to them every day. My precious Valus._

_My friends._

_My brothers._

_My lovers._

Ta'aun couldn't move, but he could feel again. Cold darkness crept up his body. He could feel it in his toes, ankles, and up his legs. Down below, he couldn't feel anything anymore. Why couldn't he feel them? It crawled further and further up, and suddenly he didn't have a waist, or did he? Ta'aun didn't know. It was just cold – so utterly, terrifyingly _cold_. It was consuming his chest, spreading to his arms. He saw his hand, still outstretched, but he felt nothing.

**{** **Sometimes you have to go on alone.** **There is a knife for you. It is shaped like [loneliness]. Pick it up.** **}**

The Darkness was speaking to him from somewhere. It was at his neck, the last vestiges of feeling, and Ta'aun shut his eyes. He saw their faces. He wouldn't let them go.

_Mau'ual._

_Tlu'urn._

_I love them._

_They will always be in my heart._

_I love them. I love them. Ilove them Ilovethem IlovethemIlovethemIlovethemIlovethemIlovethemIlove–_

*** ***

The Mausoleum was silent.

The only evidence of Hive activity was scattered chitin chunks and ash.

Tlu'urn stared up at the empty spot where Ta'aun had been, eyes wide behind his helmet. The starry Wizards were dead, burned into nothingness, and the portal that sucked their beloved up was gone. It was like it had never been there at all – like Ta'aun had never been there. He wanted to say it was all a nightmare, that if he pinched himself, he'd wake up, still in bed with them, but his eyes were too well-trained. They had seen centuries of combat. They didn't lie to him.

Ta'aun was _gone_.

There was no trace of him: no helmet, no chunk of armor, no body. All they had left of him was his Heavy Slug Thrower, but that wasn't _HIM._ That wasn't Ta'aun. It was just metal and ammunition, it wasn't him. This wasn't supposed to happen. Ta'aun never should have gone to the Dreadnought. They were supposed to go home after the war, victorious. Maybe marriage, just so it was official, but they never needed that. _We have our bond._ Tlu'urn's throat tightened as if a hand wrapped around his neck. He wanted to scream. Fight, kill, destroy, break his arms, break his legs, let death come rushing to him.

_We had._

Tlu'urn realized his hands were empty, and he looked to Mau'ual. He was on his hands and knees, and roared at nothing. His thick, gloved hands pounded the sickly-colored floor, scattering bits of debris away, and Tlu'urn just watched.

"Why didn't he listen to you? Why?" Mau'ual scream came through his comms system, but he heard it without technology too. "You told him to mutiny! You told him–"

Mau'ual let out a choked noise, and slammed his fist into the floor again.

It echoed through the thick silence, amplifying their grief into the cavernous room. He raised his hand again, but Tlu'urn stepped forward and caught it.

"We need to leave, Mau'ual," Tlu'urn murmured. His voice was hoarse; every word felt like a battle against the milk robots.

Mau'ual gripped Tlu'urn's hand tight, digging his fingers into the palm of the other Valus' hand.He forced himself to get to his feet, and Tlu'urn hoped the dark wouldn't come back to steal him too.

A rock tumbled over the edge of the floor with a soft crack, and both Valus looked towards the source.

The Guardian stood across the way, but their gun was strung on their back; not a hostile. It was one of the acrobatic ones with the capes and functional leather. There was a soft hiss as they disengaged their helmet. Tlu'urn stood in front of Mau'ual. The face beneath the helmet looked like one off the old, weathered Martian boards that lay beneath the sand: small and thin, horizontal mouth, but their eyes were downcast and wet-looking. If that was how Martians even showed sadness, but Tlu'urn had the feeling it was. It couldn't be anything else. The Guardian still didn't raise a weapon towards them.

Tlu'urn gave the Guardian a half-nod for not killing them, but he had half a mind to tell them to anyways. He didn't trust his voice to thank them. Mau'ualpulled away from the other Valus and knelt down so he could pick up Ta'aun's Heavy Slug Thrower. His fingers ghosted over the T carved into the metal near the bottom, nearly hidden from view. Tlu'urn watched, but the Guardian kept their weapons away.

Tlu'urn's heart ached in his chest. He would have rather taken another Torch Hammer blow, or an explosion from an artillery round than feel the hurt that lay within him. Mau'ual turned and walked away towards the arching doorway they came from. One last look was spared towards the silent Guardian, and then Tlu'urn followed the Valus.

Mau'ual held their stolen lover's weapon in one hand while his other found Tlu'urn's, and Tlu'urn held it back, intertwining their fingers as they passed through the filth-crusted tunnels. There was a tremble in the other Valus' hand. Tlu'urn heart was in his throat, begging for a release from its sorrow, but he swallowed it down. Shell after shell of artillery rained down on his bunker, tearing apart fortifications and the ceilings crumbled.

Beneath the pressure gel that kept them alive on the hellscape of Mars, his eyes stung.

**Author's Note:**

> And so this story comes to an end. At least, one of them. Sometime down the line, I'll be doing an alternate ending to this fic and I can for sure say it won't be nearly as sad. I will give them their happy ending, dammit!


End file.
